


Glub Productions presents Eridan Ampora in: March Eridan

by Kitsune_Heart



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ampora Sandwich, Anal Sex, Blanket Permission, Blow Jobs, Boys in Skirts, Bukkake, Group Sex, Humanstuck, Incest, M/M, March Eridan, Oral Sex, Orgy, Podfic Welcome, Porn, Porn Star AU, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 16:10:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1353598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsune_Heart/pseuds/Kitsune_Heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b> Based upon the Ampora's Pornstar Family AU by NatsuArt. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Dad,” Eridan says, smiling</p><p>“Oh my god,” Meulin whispers. “Yes.</p><p>“Oh my god,” you whisper. “No.”</p><p>The metal buckle on Eridan’s belt isn’t secured well, far more decorative than functional, and it clicks with every step, holding attention to him. Which he really doesn’t need help with. Not with how his twin ponytails angle just barely down, drawing eyes to his stark collarbones. And the expanse of flat, barely toned stomach beneath the knotted—not buttoned—front of his white shirt. And not with the swish left and right, step by step, of his blue and black pleated skirt.</p><p>"Guess what time it is?” Eridan says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glub Productions presents Eridan Ampora in: March Eridan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NatsuArt](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=NatsuArt).



> This story is based upon the amazing Amporas Pornstar Family AU, by Natsuart. While I, for the most part, tried to comply with Natsuart’s canon, I had to take a few liberties. As this story was originally entitled “The one wherein Eridan sucks, like, a dozen dicks,” I needed some more male actors, so I included Bro Strider (who is merely a former college student, but him being a porn star is just...it fits) and Dad Egbert, because...Dad Egbert, man.
> 
> This story is very specifically based upon the [“March Eridan DVD” art post by xing2lee.](http://natsubutart.tumblr.com/post/68889097469) I tried to make each scene comply to that in some manner.
> 
> As a quick warning to readers, if you didn’t notice the tags, there’s totally incest here, and also a mention of the controversial “Daddy Dearest” fanfic.  
> Enjoy!

 

Raising two songs on the income of a porn studio (and, later, two separate, competing studios) and expecting them to not notice was always a fond but recognisably futile dream of Condy and you. You both knew this. Accepted this. Your acceptance, of course, didn’t make the actual reveals any less disturbing. For all involved.

For Cronus, your eldest, it came rather early in the studio’s history, when half of the shots were still done in the Ampora-Peixes family home. On that fateful day, Cronus was  _supposed_ to be, like all other young teens, in school, but...well, your boy had always had a smart mouth. (Your own fault, of course.) So perhaps it was a punishment upon you and Miss Peixes that your son stormed home after being suspended for his latest crime, kicking the front door open with every intention of explaining why it  _was not his fault,_ and instead gazed upon his father’s cock, deeply embedded in ass of the studio’s latest tryout.

Ten seconds of terrified screaming (almost exclusively from Cronus) led to five minutes on the theme of “how could you do this to Mom!?” On noticing the camera man, his anger expanded to include your stupidity in thinking you would escape detection.

When Condy finally decided to help her lover and pause her own shoot long enough to don a robe and enter the living room, there was much awkward silence. And a little retching on Cronus’s part.

When everyone settled down in the kitchen for tea, Cronus had been...surprisingly... _not_ okay with the setup. “Look, I know you’re not married, but...I mean...it’s….” The boy glared down at his drink and muttered, “Can’t you just...only film together?”

“We do film together,” You said, displaying as fatherly a smile as any dad could hope to give. Which was quite impressive, considering the spectacular case of blue-balls you were dealing with. The new actor really hadn’t been half bad. “But we both agreed that we were okay with this. And it’s the best way to get out more videos.”

At Cronus’s continued sulk, his mother reached out, patting his shoulder. “Honey. Little seahorse,” she crooned, dragging out a smile at the now rarely-used childhood nickname, “it’s fine. Trust me. If either of us have a problem, we agreed a long time ago that we’d have to stop. No arguments about why.”

Cronus considered his mother. “You’re...sure?”

Condy smiled. “Mmmhmmm.”

And she was right. When the split finally came, it wasn’t over sex or even the business. You two had simply grown apart, and decided it was best to complete the process. When the end came, Eridan was, as expected, dramatically distraught, but Cronus, who had been nearly eighteen at the time and very vocal about his decision to live with his father, had reacted with...marked approval. 

A few weeks into his first college term and following the most formal reprimand you had ever seen from any educational institute, Cronus had approached you about a job. It took two more reprimands and a threat to try out at his mother’s studio before you’d allowed your son to shoot a video.

He was headlining within a month.

Eridan, though...Eridan’s discovery was...different. And quite a bit delayed, compared to his brother. Late one night, as Cronus sat at the kitchen table transposing his latest tune and you sat opposite, balancing books, Eridan came into the kitchen, placed his laptop on the table, and pressed “play.”

The kitchen was filled with wet slaps, grunting, and his dear father murmuring “you like that, huh? You can take more, you  _know it_ , whore.”

You sat there for about forty seconds—the length of a sample video on the main site—before, slowly, closing your own laptop.

Cronus’s shoulders were shaking and he bit his fist in an attempt to keep some dignity. “Woah. Dad….”

Then Eridan switched tabs and hit “play” once more.

“Touch yourself,” came the voice of your elder son from the laptop. “Feels good? God damn...you almost there, baby?”

Cronus’s face turned a delicate pink.

“So...how long has this been a  thing” Eridan asked, casually, arms crossed. In that moment, his resemblance to his mother was uncanny.

You, somehow, managed to answer. “You mean your ability to bypass the content filters on your computer? You’re sixteen, Eridan. You shouldn’t be watching porn.”

Eridan snorted. “Really? _Really,_ Dad? Do you seriously  _not_ realize that a good portion of your page views are from minors?”

“There is an age verification page.”

“And how many people visiting your site were born on January first?”

You decided not to answer.

There was an extended silence in the kitchen. Cronus was perhaps just embarrassed, maybe ashamed—he’d only been in the industry for nine months—but your stomach twisted in on itself. Waiting for the question. The dreaded discussion.  _Is this why Mom left?_ And all the awkward revelations to follow. You would be forced to ruin your son’s respect for his mother, and, while Condy and you rarely spoke anymore, that was something you’d never wanted to do.

Eridan tilted his head, considering his kin. 

They shifted awkwardly under the youngest Ampora’s gaze.

Eridan pursed his lips.

“I want in.”

Cronus’s pencil snapped.

The scowl that you settled on your youngest would have made any of your crew go flaccid in seconds.

Eridan barely flinched. He was well and truly Condy’s son.

“You are sixteen,” you growled.

“Well, yeah,” Eridan said with the most teenagerly of eye rolls. “When I turn eighteen, I mean.”

“No,” you said, as stern as you could manage. “Eridan, you are too young to make this decision.”

“But I can when I’m eighteen?” Eridan asked, canting his hip with a degree of sass that you really did not appreciate. “When did Cronus start?”

“When he was eighteen, of course, but that is not—”

“So I’ll just wait,” Eridan said, gathering up his laptop. “Not like I wasn’t going to have to, anyways,” He began walking around the table, and you should have stopped the retreat, but ending this conversation was such an alluring idea that you really didn’t try that hard.

But it was, of course, not quite over. Eridan stopped at the entry hall, turning to look his father in the eye, and said, “I bottom. Hope that’s not a problem.” And then he swept out of the room like he was the goddamn Batman.

You and your eldest sat at the kitchen table. Considering this. Carefully. So...so very carefully.

Cronus opened his mouth.

“Let us never speak of this again,” you said.

Cronus nodded and you both got back to your chores.

* * *

“ So...what are the plans?” Meulin asked, handing over an extra cup of tea before taking a seat beside you and sipping her own fresh brew.

“Nothing too big,” You say, sampling the tea and giving your head writer an appreciative smile. Fetching beverages was definitely not her job, but she and her sister adored tea and you had been a beneficiary of the studio’s large electric kettle on many an occasion. And you really needed a good jolt of caffeine tonight, what with the newest actor delaying the shoot every five minutes to request a fluffer. You’d already decided that this guy was not coming back. There was a huge difference between improper edging and actual erectile dysfunction, and Glub Productions was not the place to improve either.

“Nothing nice and shiney, with a lot of horsepower?” Meulin asked, wiggling her brows.

You snorted into your cup. Meulin was painfully adorable, and you dearly wished she could have made it on film, but she’d never been able to play serious long enough to make her debut. “No, Meulin. I’m not giving him a car. I didn’t for Cronus, either.”

Meulin studies your lips until you close them firmly, showing her you were done speaking. After a moment’s hesitation while she worked out the shapes of your lips, she replies. “That’s not what I meant,” Meulin says, flicking her gaze onto the set and the two stars embracing there, one of whom sports a tight ponytail, a blue horseshoe tattoo on his bicep, and a nice sheen of sweat. “And I do believe Cronus  _did_ get the horsepower...eventually.” She hides her lips behind her teacup, which does nothing to hide the smile in her eyes.

You sigh and shake your head. “Dinner, Meulin. And a check to do with as he wishes.”

“Boring,” Meulan sings, remarkably melodic, considering her impairment. “Are you going to tell him he’s a real man, now, too?”

You sniff and turn to your actors, not even bothering to keep your voice down. Everything would have to be voiced over on this video, anyways. The new actor’s grunts were far more of effort than arousal. “Richards! How are you holding up?”

The stars break their embrace, Horuss giving you the briefest of glances before looking away with one of the most pronounced frowns you’ve ever seen from the man.

His co-star—a bit less-built than Horuss, and rather touchy about that fact—looks down his body before giving you a sheepish smile.

You sigh. Limp as spaghetti at the Olive Garden. “Alright, everyone. Take five. Alexa, would you? Thanks, dear. We’ll move on to the actual sex after this. Let’s get ready to wrap for the night.”

One of your newer girls—pretty enough, though you’ve already guessed that she won’t stick out the year—steps forward as Horuss breaks away to sit on the bed and idly stroke his erection, keeping himself ready for the next scene.

Richards is, indeed, flaccid as a punctured bike tire, but on being approached by the red-headed woman, he begins to respond. She hasn’t even touched him before he’s half hard, and he bites his lip as she takes him in her mouth, his ass flexing as he makes tiny thrusts.

You roll your eyes. Society has changed so much since you first got into the industry, but there is still a general shortage of gay actors, meaning your studio still has to hire the occasional gay-for-pay star. But you have never seen one who was so fucking terrible at pretending to be homosexual for long enough to film a scene. You’re half tempted to just restart the filming and make it an amateur straight flick with Alexa, but it’s almost revenge, now. Richards had assured you he could manage being a bottom, and his check was all written. Besides, you’d be putting a long day’s worth of work down the drain.

And, well...yes, revenge.

“How are you, Horuss,” you ask.

You’re given a thumbs up—not two, his other hand is, of course, still busy—and a strained smile.

You feel for Horuss. You really do. You’ve had a shitty straight boy or two in your own films, and you never appreciate the blue balls. You consider letting him just fuck Richards soft—face-down on the bed and the viewers would never know—but that never sells as well. Not without a good straight-boy setup, and you are just  _done_ with adding plot to this piece of shit.

“Okay, everyone, places,” you say, glaring at Richards when he gives you a pitiful look as his dick is released. You hold three fingers up for the count down. “Let’s try to get through this so we can call it a night. And three. Two.”

The studio door creaks open and you turn to glare at the intruder as your final finger falls. “Ooooooooooooooooooo...ne.” You say. Your actors fail to start the scene, and you do not think to reprimand them as everyone in the studio turns to the door.

“Hey, Dad,” Eridan says, smiling.

“ Oh my god,” Meulin whispers. “ _Yes.”_

“Oh my god,” you whisper. “No.”

The metal buckle on Eridan’s belt isn’t secured well, far more decorative than functional, and it clicks with every step, holding attention to him. Which he really doesn’t need help with. Not with how his twin ponytails angle just barely down, drawing eyes to his stark collarbones. And the expanse of flat, barely toned stomach beneath the knotted—not buttoned—front of his white shirt. And not with the swish left and right, step by step, of his blue and black pleated skirt.

“Guess what time it is?” Eridan says, stopping before you, holding his hands behind his back and bouncing. If he was a girl, he’d be smacking himself in the face with his tits.

“ Time for you to go home and go to sleep, young man,” you hiss, standing and removing your jacket, tossing it at Eridan. You’ve known for a long time that he had some girl’s clothes. You’d come home early one day to find him making pancakes in something that looked like it would be more at home in  _Swan Lake_ than the Ampora kitchen, and you had responded to his deer-in-headlights fear like the best father ever by asking him if there was any jelly left to go with the meal. So, yes, you’ve seen him in the occasional blouse or skirt, but this...he’d never... _where the hell was he hiding that thing?_

Probably anywhere with a single cubic inch of space, given how little skirt there is. Shit. You’re a terrible, inattentive father.

Eridan has caught your jacket, but not donned it, which he really should have done. It’s cold, and the only thing on him that looks more than an atom thick are a pair of black and purple thigh-highs and the thick, clunky black boots he wears with everything, since the soles give him an extra two inches of height.

“Dad,” Eridan says. “It’s my birthday.”

“ Tomorrow,” you growl. “And that’s only if you live, Eridan, I am  _working_ and you are  _not allowed_ on set—”

“Until I’m eighteen,” Eridan interrupts. “Today.” He holds out his wrist—not limp, as the stereotypes would go, but delicately boned and precisely posed—to show his watch. “It’s midnight.”

“Then you should be in bed” you snap.

You son’s lips quirk and you want to smack yourself. You know what’s coming.

“That was the plan,” Eridan says. “Totally ready.”

“Eridan, no,” you groan, rubbing your temples.

“Eridan, yes,” your son replies. “Come on. Time is wasting.”

“ It is, indeed,” you growl, “because we have a film to finish and then everyone is going. Home.” You narrow your eyes. “And when I get home, we are having a  _talk._ ”

“About pay rates?” Eridan says, still grinning. “I’m fine with studio standard. No nepotism, Dad! I can do this on my own.”

“ _Eridan!_ ”

Your son finally shuts up.

“Just….” You look at the crew. “Start filming. You know what to do.” You rise from your chair and grab Eridan by the elbow, dragging him to the far wall, where you begin a hissed conversation.

“Eridan,” you begin, “you—”

“I know the company requires you to have blood tests,” Eridan says, reaching in his shirt and pulling out a sheaf of papers. Even though he has to unfold them several times, only God knows where there was actually enough space to hide them. “Meulin said this would cover everything.”

You accept the papers. Then realize you’re holding the results of your youngest son’s STI test. You are not sure which is more responsible—handing them back or making sure your son is healthy—and you opt for the latter, simply so you don’t have to keep looking at him. “Eridan, you can’t just...we have a schedule. And it’s late. If you wanted to be in a video—”

“You legally couldn’t even discuss it with me until ten minutes ago,” Eridan says, crossing his arms. If he was one of your female actresses, he’d be boosting up his tits right now. Thank god Condy’s daughters work with her. You’d never get through this discussion with them without feeling like the cops were on their way.

You flip to another page. “You should be going through our network for these,” you say.

“I did,” Eridan says, tapping the logo at the top of the page. “Should fit in with your records just fine.”

You look out of the corner of your eyes at Meulin, who is observing you two, smiling. Once you’re sure she notices, you point at her, then yourself, and then make a very slow, angry talking handsign.

She turns back to the filming.

“Eridan, let’s...discuss this in a few days,” you say, letting your arm fall to your side, the pages whispering as they fall. “Everyone here is tired, and—”

“Fluffer!” Meulin yowls.

“ Are you  _kidding_ me?” You bellow, turning back to the scene in progress, where Richards sits on Horuss’s lap.

Horuss meets your eyes for just a moment before looking away, shoulders hunching.

You bare your teeth. That’s it. Fuck this. Fuck this newbie, coming in limped-dicked and giving Zahhak confidence issues.

“ Does anyone have some fucking...Viagra or a  _splint_ or something?” You snap, and it only makes Horuss purse his lips and Richards glare.

“It’s not my fault,” the newbie says, proud despite the limp flesh between his legs.

Horuss flinches.

“Oh, no,” you hiss, stepping forward, “you are not blaming this on Zah-hey!” You are thrown off balance as Eridan elbows past you, hips snapping side to side as he goes on set.

“ You interrupted,” you son says, stopping before the newbie, putting his hands on his hips. “I was talking to my  _dad_ .”

Richards’s brows shoot up, and he sends a look your way. Lips curling. Some fucking irritating line formulating in his tiny brain.

But, before he can get that all set up, Eridan drops to his knees, leans forward, and puts Richards’s dick in his mouth.

You gape.

Meulin gapes.

Horuss—whose own penis is barely a quarter-inch inside his co-star—gapes.

Richards...groans. “Sh-shit, no, I’m not...fuck!”

You watch as the shitty star hesitates. Then buries his hands in your son’s hair and begins humping into his mouth. But for the moans and wet sucks, the set is silent.

“Shit,” Richards whispers. “I’m gonnaaaaaaaah!”

Eridan pulls back just in time to jerk Richard’s spurting cock, applying a few thick lines of white cum to his glasses and cheeks. The blow-ee shudders, keens, twitches as his cock slows to a dribble.

Eridan—your son, your youngest, your little fashion monster—sits back and begins to lick the semen off his fingers.

“Jesus H,” Meulin says. “Please tell me you got that on film, Equius.”

The younger Zahhak raises his hand in a thumbs up.

“ Yesssss,” Meulin purrs. “Oh, that is going to get  _so many views_ .”

“ That is  _not_ going in the film,” Richards growls, standing, looming. Looming over  _your son._

Eridan snickers, leaning back to look up the wall of a man before him while still sporting the man’s cum on his face. “I’ve seen your contracts,” Eridan says. “It’s going in.”

Richards’s eyes go wide, and his biceps flex, hand coming back. “You fucking  _fa—_ ”

Horuss—sitting behind and still hard—has the man’s wrist in his grip before it’s reached full extension.

Richards is tossed over Horuss’s shoulder a second later, and the new actor bounces across the bed and to the floor opposite with a harsh “oof!”

Eridan, who hasn’t even flinched, looks up atHoruss and smiles (and he is, of course, smiling through all the cum, so it looks faintly ridiculous). “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Horuss says, offering a hand, which is taken, allowing the two men to use each other as leverage to stand. Once on their feet, Horuss locates his shirt and offers it to Eridan, who gives Zahhak a little smile before going about wiping his face, smearing a bit of his makeup in the process.

Behind them, Richards is standing, eyes sparking, fists clenched. “I will see you...in court.”

You don’t even feel a hint of the flash of fear you’d felt the first time you’d heard those words. “Yeah, okay,” you say, crossing your arms. “I’d love to show the jury video of you about to beat my son because of your premature ejaculation problem. And your contract releasing all rights to footage filmed at this studio.”

You expect a tiny bit of wind to go from the man’s sails, but he just snarls. “You’re just a predator, Ampora. Just like every other person in this industry.”

You snort. “Horuss?”

The elder Zahhak looks at you, face carefully neutral.

“How’s things?”

Zahhak smiles. “Equius and I are about to start looking for a condo.”

“Oh, really?” You smile. This is news, even to you. “Meulin?”

“Nepeta just put the last payment on our big cruise!”

“Eridan?” You ask, looking at your son.

Your son looks back at you with wide eyes. There’s still a bit of cum on his collarbone.

He grins.

“Not bad for a first job,” he says, with a casual shrug.

“Good way to pay tuition,” you say.

Eridan’s smile fades. “I—”

“So, kid,” you say, returning attention to Richards. “If anyone here is a predator...I think it’s you.” You raise a hand, waving it vaguely towards Equius. “Keep the camera on him until he’s off studio grounds. Unless you have to kick his ass. Meulin, get my son a contract. And a new shirt. Horuss, call the rest of the crew. Offer another twenty percent on their rates.”

You turn to your son, and smirk. “Well, little seahorse,” you say, shrugging and simultaneously giving up all hopes of winning any future arguments, “you ready for your close up?”

Eridan stares at you.

Then leaps across the room and gives you an enormous, cum-covered hug.

* * *

“ So, pretty obvious you’re not a virgin,” you say, looking over your new crew checklist.

“Uh...no,” Eridan says, hunching his shoulders. It doesn't help with his balance on the rickety folding chair he sits upon, and Nepeta grabs his chin so she can continue slathering on makeup. His own initial setup was fine, but he’s going to need something a bit more camera-friendly. And long-lasting. And...fluid-resistant. He’s also had his glasses cleaned and his shirt replaced with some old promotional material from the studio, just an old tube-top with the company logo. Despite the lack of tits, it fits him well.

“Didn’t think you were,” you say. “I remember that old boyfriend of yours. What was his name?”

Eridan mutters something that sounds quite a lot like “wheeling,” but you don’t ask for clarification.

“Here’s the big thing with the studio,” you say, lowering the pages to look at your son. “We’re all clean here. One hundred percent. And that’s because we get tested. And we keep it. In. The company.” You snap the papers at these words. “We’ve got a few other studios we trust, and if you want to date outside that, that’s fine. But if you’re going to have sex with someone outside the business, you have to take a break from filming until six months after, and a clean test.” You look your son right in the eyes. “Got it?”

Eridan doesn’t hesitate before nodding. “Dont’ worry. I’ve been single for a year.”

“ Good,” you say. “We can find non-filming work for you if something happens, Eridan, but if I  _ever_ hear you had sex outside the studio and filmed again without telling me, even if you’re clean, even if he showed you  _his_ tests, you’re fired. Permanently.”

“Yeah. Totally,” Eridan says, eyes wide.

“You can still film with condoms, if you want,” you say. “I don’t care either way, and we’ve got a big enough name here that it doesn’t affect our DVD sales or views.”

“Uh...if everyone is clean, I’d rather...not,” Eridan mutters. He’s got a lot of blush applied, but his skin bypasses that color swiftly.

You shrug. With new actors, you find a nonchalant attitude eases them, Makes the job seem boring. “So you know, if anyone you’re in a shot with wants one, they get it, no arguing.”

“Figured,” Eridan says, squirming in his seat. He’s got his hands on his lap, so you suspect even this disconcerting speech isn’t lessening his excitement to get before the camera.

“We’ve got a list of kinks for you to go through later, but, in the meantime, do you have any objections to giving or receiving oral sex, anal, rimming, swallowing, getting cum on you, or light spanking?

Eridan squeaks. He shakes his head.

Nepeta—helpful girl that she is—tilts Eridan’s chin up and begins dabbing on lipstick. “Heard a motorcycle come up….”

Eridan chokes and looks at you. “Da...Cro…?”

Nepeta grabs his chin and forces it forward again. “How do you feel about a little Ampora sandwich?”

You inspect your papers. Must not smile. Must not laugh. “I’ve filmed with Cronus before. Not often. But the request does come up. And we’re one of the few regions that can film it, so….”

“ I tried to work with Meulin a few times, but she’s not good at being on camera,” Nepeta says. “And Equius and Horuss...eeee!” She almost drops the lip gloss as she puts her hands to her cheeks. “Oh,  _why_ isn’t Equius still filming?”

“I…” Eridan swallows. Closes his eyes. When he speaks, it’s hoarse. “Cro...um...I’m fine.”

Your eyes dart once more to your son’s lap, where his skirt shifts under what is now a very active erection. “You can back out. Call cut anytime,” you assure your son. “You can decide to stop filming entirely. The contract isn’t to force you into doing anything you’re uncomfortable with. It’s more to protect the studio if anyone regrets things later and tries to claim they were coerced.”

“Like shitty blowjob guy?” Eridan asks, his flush ebbing.

You laugh. “Yes. Like shitty blowjob guy.”

“Well...I’m fine,” Eridan says. Nepeta has finished his makeup, and so he opens his eyes and meets yours. “I know I can back out, Dad. And I don’t want to.”

Now you’re the one with a hint of red to your cheeks. Swiftly, you hand the papers and a pen over. “All the highlights. We’ll leave you alone to do that. Come out when you’re ready.”

Eridan takes the contact and gives you a nervous smile. “I’m gay, Dad.”

You snort and reach out, tugging one of your son’s pigtails. “You’re hella fucking gay, Eridan. See you on set.”

You nod at Nepeta and she follows you out of the office, shutting the door behind.

Nepeta looks at you, tail twitching. “Need some ice, boss?”

You give her a glare, but she is unimpressed. Grumbling at your utter lack of authority, you face forward, inspecting the set and the late-night arrivals. Besides Nepeta, who you swear had come even before Horuss sent out the all-hands call, the results are truly impressive. You nod to one of your older actors—a big dominant from your own days on screen, who is well-known for only showing his emotions through his words, his eyes hidden behind thick black shades—and he nods back, allowing you a little smirk. He’d been making a killing in some little offshoot kink even  _you_ found a bit odd, but apparently a text saying that Ampora’s kid was looking for a debut pounding was enough to end his semi-retirement.

At his side is a far rarer sight. Tall, long legs, thin frame, despite the fact that you swear you’ve never seen him eat anything other than the kind of cakes that appear on basic cable. You can tell he’s tired, stubble still on his chin, instead of his normal clean-shaven appearance, but there is no hiding his readiness to film, what with that nice piece in his slacks. You have a brief flash of jealousy towards your son, but you suppose he should be allowed to enjoy the perks of youth. And, well, if he can take the old star, then Eridan is going to do just fine in this business.

Just beyond them are the two newest additions to your crew. Another set of brothers. Your studio is going to get a real name for this...should maybe start a sub-label...but, in the meantime, they’re eager, fresh recruits, though the elder—Kurloz—is clearly the better star, and turning into a damn fine dom. He’d had his first video with Cronus the week before, and, in spite of the script, had your boy on his back and crying out with not a hint of theatricality. The video had just hit shelves, but you were already considering a reprint.

And, speaking of your eldest, he’s as far from the Makaras as can be managed and still be in the studio, giving Kurloz his best glare. His co-star hasn’t noticed, but the younger brother, Gamzee, is waving back in a most friendly manner.

Gamzee is...fucking...scary. You sort of wish he hadn’t shown up. But he’s an asset to the company—the star of your darker videos—and unerringly friendly out of a scene. Just...in a scene….

At your side, Nepeta begins to purr.

Gamzee looks towards the little rumble and jerks his chin in greeting.

Nepeta wriggles her fingers.

You dearly love your crew.

“Okay, everyone,” you say, stepping to the middle of the false bedroom. “I’m guessing you all got the message, but if you didn’t, Eridan’s birthday starten a half hour ago, and he has decided to enter the family business. So if you’re not into that, it’s time to go.”

Laughter from the crowd.

“Thanks for the warning,” Big Bro says in his deep Texan twang. “Be an utter tragedy to accidentally get my dick sucked by a barely legal twink.”

His partner—he only ever goes by “Daddy Dearest” in his videos, keeping such a firm anonymity even you forget his real name half the time—gives him a stern look. “Given Dualscar and Cronus, I don’t think this Eridan will be some...waif.”

“More like waifu,” Bro says, and Nepeta joins him in a laugh.

You shake your head. “Well. It may be a bit, since Eridan has to get used to the idea. You should all settle in and—”

The door behind you opens with a creak.

You watch your actors, judging their response.

The Makaras are the only ones who don’t drop their jaws, but they’re pretty much always an exception.

Eridan walks to your side and hands over his paperwork. You just pass it to Nepeta and watch your son.

He looks over the crew. Silent for all of ten seconds.

“What?” He says, scowling. “Just six?”

Kurloz shakes with silent mirth, but Bro actually roars with laughter. “I told you he was a twink!” Bro slaps Daddy on the back, and his partner is too shocked to be angry.

“Equius,” you say, earning a yelp from your cameraman, “my son is being demanding. You want in a scene?”

The young man visibly sweats. He looks at Eridan, who goes up on his top-toes, hands held behind his back, posing himself to best effect.

“I...the camera….” Equius mutters.

“Nepeta will hold it for a scene.”

“Yep!” The girl trills. “You should go for it, Equius! Weren’t you telling me about needing another Arduino?”

You have never seen a former porn star so torn about getting his dick sucked.

“You can just stand still, instead of being on top,” you reassure. “Or just film, if that’s what you want.”

Equius looks to Eridan. To his camera. To Nepeta. “I….” He nods.

“Then eight,” you say, giving your son a smile.

Eridan smiles back, happy once more.

And then he does math.

“E...eight?”

“Places, everyone,” you say. “Nepeta, the camera. Equius, you go first, so you don’t break equipment while waiting.”

Equius turns about as pale as your son, who is whispering “eight?” as you walk away.

Nepeta leaps forward, spinning as she takes the camera from Equius. She has it snapped open and trained on him in seconds. “Ready for your close-up Equi-hiss?”

“Uh...I...oh dear,” Equius murmurs.

“Oh, how cute! He’s furry flustered! I wonder why, hmmm?” Nepeta begins backing away from Equius. Towards Eridan, whom she turns to face at nearly the last moment, getting an extreme close-up of the pig-tailed star. “Hello there, strange-purr!”

You can tell Eridan is trying not to smile, but he fails. Good. It suits him, like this. “Hi.”

“And who...are you?” Nepeta asks, now leaning in too close, making Eridan step back.

“Um...I’m Eridan,” your son responds. “Ampora.”

Nepeta gasps theatrically. “Are you related to  _the_ Dualscar and Cronus Ampora?  _Founder_ and  _diamond point_ of Glub Productions?”

“Uh...yeah. My dad and brother.” Eridan darts his eyes at you, visibly concerned. Nepeta does have that effect on people, when she gets...enthusiastic.

“ Going into the family business, then?” Nepeta says, finally taking a step back, sweeping the camera up and down Eridan’s body. “I see you’re going to... _take it_ in a new direction.”

Eridan laughs, doing a spin for Nepeta, pausing with his backside to her. He places his hands on his ass and leans over, the skirt beginning to ride up.

Good lord, but those are some yellow panties.

“So...Eridan,” Nepeta says, zooming in on your son’s ass. On how he grabs the flesh and pulls his cheeks apart. Has he been practicing before a mirror or something? A quick look around the room shows the entire crew is spellbound, some already rubbing their cocks through their pants. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen” Eridan says, lifting his skirt up just a bit more, sliding his fingers along the elastic about his legs, back, back towards his hole, but not quite there. Not quite showing it.

“Oh? When?”

“Half an hour ago,” Eridan says, tugging the panties aside, showing more and more of his pale, round ass.

Nepeta laughs. “What took you so long?”

Eridan groans, fingers slipping further under the yellow cotton, stroking his crack. “Paperwork,” he pants.

“That’s just terrible,” Nepeta says. “You’re very patient. Are you ready to start?”

“Mmmhmm,” Eridan says, and his fingers are moving in this little pumping motion that could be him faking it, but really, really look like he’s fucking himself.

“Well...your co-stars await.” Nepeta prompts, leaning back and waving to the crew, who all stand straighter as the focus goes on them.

Eridan walks—no, fucking saunters—into the bedroom set, his thick boots tapping the floor with a delicateness for which they were never intended.

Your stars converge on your son with no prompting, but for the always-timid Equius and, oddly, Cronus, who remains in the shot, just watching as Bro puts his hands on his little brother’s hips and Daddy crowds behind the dom, placing a hand on Eridan’s neck. The Makaras take either side, playing with the pleated skirt, and Horuss pushes to the very front, pressing his hips to Eridan, nuzzling his chin into the curve of the new star’s shoulder, slowly licking and nipping his skin.

“Hmmm...want second turn?” Eridan asks, reaching down to grab Horuss’s cock through his jeans.

“ I’m  _taking_ second,” Horuss growls, and the entire crew—you included—blinks. The elder Zahhak is never this forward. He’s almost formal, almost  _conservative_ in his actions, and you can’t even recall an instance where he  _wanted_ to top in a video. You’d blame his epic blue-balls if Horuss wasn’t also sliding his hand up Eridan’s skirt, tearing a gasp from your son’s lips.

“F...f…”

“Yeah,” Horuss says. “I’ll fuck you, kid. Now, get to sucking off my brother. I can’t wait to get inside you.” Horuss punctuates the statement by grabbing Eridan’s ass and pulling him forward, rubbing their groins harder.

“Y-yeah,” Eridan says, nodding. Despite his agreement, he whines when Horuss steps back and waves a hand at his little brother.

You have never seen an actor so lost in the scene. Eridan breaks from his admirers, almost jumping to stand before Equius, and drops to his knees so fast it must  _hurt_ .

Equius looks about to offer first aid, but then, like magic, his pants are at his knees and his limp, nervous cock is in Eridan’s hand.

You can see Zahhak’s dick begin to swell in just a few strokes. Despite the speed, Eridan is squirming, free hand rubbing his lap, and he gives Equius these soulful, needy eyes.

Equius looks flabberghasted. He wants to help so very bad.

“Do you want to cum in my mouth?” Eridan says, breathy, but plenty loud for the camera, “or on my face.”

Equius has achieved rock-hardness. “I...um...your choice?”

Eridan considers this.

Then smiles. “Surprise?”

After a pause, Equius nods.

And your son begins, once more, to suck a dick. With great aplomb.

You find yourself looking at your watch. At the second hand. Any moment now…

“A-ah, I’m—”

“Nope,” Eridan says, backing off Equius’s penis, clenching his hand on the base so hard Zahhak squeaks.

The crew watches in wonder. Never before. Never has anyone managed what you are now witnessing. Equius has two things keeping him from being a star: a strength that almost sends his partners to the emergency room, and a fuse so short that it’s a wonder he finds the time to damage them in the first place. You’re suddenly curious if Eridan could solve that during anal, but fucking your youngest is probably too much of a risk.

You grin, suddenly realizing that, if Eridan was able to stop Zahhak, there was no way he’d have a problem stopping Richards from disgracing himself. Your son is evil and he is truly worthy of this crew and your name.

It’s not long before Eridan is back to work. Little licks this time. Small kisses. Fingers trailing along Equius’s length as Eridan teases and worships. The Zahhaks are easily the biggest dicks in the studio, so there is a lot to worship, and Eridan is being a very thorough devotee.

Despite the slow work, Equius is breathing hard, cock bobbing with every other touch. It’s really impressive he hasn’t just jizzed everywhere already. Eridan really knows what he’s doing.

...which means your a terrible father for not catching on and preventing him from gaining that experience.

But...well...teens. They do what they want.

“Good job, little brother,” Horuss says, walking up behind Eridan, who arches his back at the closeness. “But I’m getting...impatient.”

Eridan pauses in his ministrations to look back at Horuss, batting his eyes. “You know...you don’t have to wait until he’s done...unless you’ve changed your mind and want my mouth, too?”

Horuss smiles, shaking his head. “No. But good idea. Equius,” he snaps, making his brother jump, “sit down, already.”

The younger Zahhak is on the floor instantly, legs spread wide, allowing Nepeta a good zoom in on his tight balls and wet cock. A moment later, Eridan goes to hands and knees, swirling his tongue on Equius’s tip. His ass is thrust into the air, waving, waiting for attention.

Horuss is quick to supply, dropping to his knees and grabbing Eridan’s buttocks, parting them, which makes your son squeak around the bit of cock in his mouth. “How much prep do you need?” Horuss asks in a low growl you have never heard from him. 

Eridan stops sucking long enough to gasp, “‘m ready. I’ve been playing with myself all night, just fuck me,  _please_ .”

“God damn,” you hear Cronus whisper, and you have to smirk. If Eridan isn’t careful, his eight shots will be down to seven and someone will be cleaning jizz out of their pants in the little employee bathroom.

Or not  _out of_ their pants, you suddenly notice. No one is strictly cock-in-pants anymore, but for you. Cronus is being discreet, compared to the rest, nearly covering his entire length with a slowly pumping fist.

The Makaras are in no way concerned about hiding. Which is good, since Meulin has taken out an extra camera and is flashing between their tangled, pierced tongues and rubbing, pierced cocks. You’re almost worried the ring through Kurloz’s tip will hook into the little ball on Gamzee’s frenulum, but, on reflection, you imagine they have thought of that and sized accordingly.

Although...they are Makaras...it may not have crossed their minds. That would be fucking gold in an out-takes reel.

In the background, Bro is quite busy, down on his knees, stroking his own dick while placing loving kisses on Daddy’s length. His glasses are askew and hair ruined from the two fistfuls of golden locks the other man has taken as he gently twists his hips, trying to get into the mouth he knows so well.

“Okay, then,” Horuss says, reclaiming your attention. You look over to see Eridan is grasping Equius’s hips to steady himself, still mouthing the younger Zahhak’s cock as the elder brother presses into your son’s hole, just barely visible with the yellow panties pulled aside. 

“ Put it in,” Eridan says, slobbering on Equius’s tip. “Please, I  _need_ it.”

“Shhh,” Horuss croons, and twitches his hips forward.

The ease of entrance confirms Eridan’s claims: he’s been preparing all night. And, given how he moans both brothers names, he must not have allowed himself a finish while on his own. You consider this a moment and smirk, going to the toy cabinet, constantly looking over your shoulder at the action.

“Thought you’d be a tight little boy,” Horuss grunts, “but you’re just a bad little whore, aren’t you?”

“ So very,” Eridan whispers, licking a stripe up Equius’s cock. “Very,  _very_ .”

“Then I don’t need to go slow,” Horuss growls, thrusting all the way in. 

Eridan throws his head back, mouth open in a silent scream, leaving Equius’s cock bereft.

Horuss leans over the gasping bottom, grabbing a pigtail and forcing his head back down until he shoves his brother’s cock into Eridan’s mouth.

You smile. Horuss is a good big brother.

But it means Eridan has lost his control, and Equius does so, as well, crying out and trembling as he tries to keep his hips still while his cock spurts into Eridan’s mouth.

Eridan doesn’t spit.

Nor does he swallow.

He just lets Equius cum into his mouth, jaw slack, semen dribbling out between his lips and over his chin. When Equius has reached the end of his orgasm, the little crossdresser lifts his head, mouth open, and shows Equius—and the camera Nepeta has trained over his shoulder—the load of cum on his tongue.

Equius stares.

Eridan smiles and finally swallows it down.

“God damn, Equius,” Nepeta purrs, “best bonus check ever.”

Equius nods in agreement, still staring at Eridan, who has gone back to moaning as Horuss sets up a rhythm of slow, deep thrusts.

“I think there’s an open spot,” Bro says, and gets back to not-quite sucking dick. Daddy is nearly stamping his foot in frustration.

“Cronus?” Gamzee croons. “You all ready for that mother fucking miracle?”

“If you think I’m fucking anything but my brother’s ass, you’re stupid as hell, Makara,” Cronus says, and the pronouncement makes Eridan keen, rocking back against Horuss. “One of you go.”

Gamzee considers this a moment, but is distracted as Kurloz taps his shoulder. He looks to his brother—a man of few words—who puts his hands in two fists facing each other, circling them before his chest like he’s a shitty club dancer.

Gamzee nods in consideration. “Yeah. Yeah, motherfucker. I’m all about sharing.”

“Hey,” you interrupt. Once you have eye contact with Kurloz, you toss over two plastic bands. “Put those on. Should do.”

Kurloz catches the toys easily and takes his brother’s hand, walking with him to stand before Eridan.

Eridan looks at them both and just smiles.

He stops when Kurloz holds up the pair of cock rings.

“Aw...come on. I can control myself,” you son whines.

“Put it on, Eridan,” you say, in the same tone you used to remind him to do his homework.

“Da-aaa-aaaad,” he whines once more, and you can see Bro’s black-haired partner shiver.

“Now, Eridan,” you say, still fatherly and cajoling, somehow so fitting when it should, honestly, sound so wrong.

Eridan huffs and manages, with Horuss’s help, to push himself back upright. Horuss wraps his arms around Eridan’s chest and continues the slow slide in and out of Eridan’s ass, each thrust sending the boy’s cock bobbing under his skirt. Panting, Eridan lifts the pleated flannel, showing a respectable bulge in his panties. Nothing on you or Cronus, but above average, to be sure.

He hooks a thumb into the elastic waistband of the panties, pulling them down, exposing a cock almost purple in need and dripping in precum.

Kurloz pats his head approvingly before stretching out the first ring and snapping it on about Eridan’s balls.

Eridan yelps, thrusting forward, off Horuss’s prick.

Horuss is not into that, grabbing the boy’s hips and slamming him back down until he’s fully hilted, pressing harder to try and get that quarter-inch deeper.

Eridan doesn’t even have time to stop moaning before the next ring is on, just above his balls, on the base of his penis.

“Keep that mouth all wide like that, mother fucker,” Gamzee says, grabbiing both of Eridan’s pigtails and forcing his cock as deep into your son’s mouth as he can go. 

Eridan’s eyes go wide and he barely has time to adjust to the thickness in his mouth before it is gone and Kurloz comes forward, taking his brother’s place.

“Mother fuck,” Kurloz grunts, and Gamzee laughs.

“Miracles, huh?” The younger Makara says, waiting patiently, but wasting no time between Kurloz pulling out and shoving his own cock down Eridan’s throat.

“Now, us, mother fucker,” Gamzee says conversationally as he face-fucks your youngest in turns, “we’re going to cum all over your face. You ready for that?”

“Mmmhmmm,” Eridan says around his mouth full of cock. His arms are thrown backwards, around Horuss’s shoulders, looking for stability as the Makara’s wrench him side to side as they trade off his mouth.

“Get both those fucking cameras on this shit,” Gamzee says, summoning Nepeta and Equius on either side. “Yeah. Watch that cute little face, by brothers. We’re about to make it all the prettier. You ready, bro?”

Kurloz nods, taking another turn on Eridan’s mouth as Gamzee begins to aim himself and stroke. The elder Makara holds up three fingers. Which begin to fall. 3...2...1.

Gamzee’s dick begins to shoot just as Kurloz pulls out, a thick line of white cum hitting Eridan right on his parted lips at the same time as Gamzee coats his glasses. They're both nearly silent as they finish, but Eridan is gasping. Keening, dick hitting his stomach with each of Horuss’s quick thrusts, and then Horuss groans and stills.

You frown a bit. You’d rather Horuss have pulled out in the final moments, for the all-important money-shot, but he really has had a bad night.You suppose he deserves to cum balls-deep in  _someone_ . And it’s obvious enough what he’s done, especially with how Eridan rocks back on him, moving easily with a good load of cum in his ass.

One load appears to be insufficient to his needs, however. “Fuck,” Eridan says. “Yes. Yes, more. Give me more.”

“No problem” Bro shouts, jumping to his feet and dragging Daddy after him. He doesn’t even wait for any of the trio to back off, just grabs Eridan by a pigtail and pulls him off Horuss’s dick and throws him to the ground.

Eridan falls on his back, legs splayed, skirt hiked around his waist and cock covered in a good line of precum. He looks up with wide, unfocused eyes. “Shit...I can’t see.”

“I’d say you should get contacts,” Bro says, walking forward, standing with his feet on either side of Eridan’s hips, his arms crossed, “but I know Daddy here likes glasses. Right, Daddy?”

The black-haired man looks down, mouth agape, as Bro crouches down and pulls the panties off Eridan’s hips, throwing them off-scene, where they will never be heard of again.

Eridan catches on quickly, giving the older man a smile and letting his voice rise a half-octave. “Oh? Do you like my glasses, Daddy?”

The black-haired man makes a choking noise.

And then so does Eridan. But that’s probably because Daddy has gone to his knees and shoved his cock deep down your son’s throat. The thrusts into his mouth are soon given a syncopated beat with Bros’ cock as it slides up into Eridan’s ass, and you watch as your son is again taken by your crew.

“ I have  _so many_ stories for him,” Meulin says at your side, giving you a small start.

You do your best to sound neutral. “He has to get the views to warrant another video.”

Meulin snorts. “Oh, shut up. You’re going to make this a DVD, and that shit is selling out within a week.” She pauses and considers. “I bet he could get  _Best Newcomer_ at the AVN awards this year.”

You do not deny the predictions. Hell, even you would probably buy this.

“He’d be great in that Cronus video we have planned. Good exposure.”

You deign to give Meulin a small smile. If she wasn’t pants at negotiation, she’d probably run the company better than you.

“You like Daddy’s cock in your mouth, bitch?” Bro growls, getting your attention again.

Eridan tries to confirm, but the mouthful of dick means he just gargles.

“Like it more than my dick in your ass?”

Eridan keens, unable to decide.

“Want my cum all over you or inside you?”

“Unf!” Eridan nods, working his mouth free. “Yes, cum on me, yes!”

Daddy groans and reclaims your sons mouth. You don’t know if your son’s preference is real, but it’s convenient. Money shots are far preferred in the industry, if less pleasurable to the actors.

Normally Bro is the talker—and he’s been doing his job while you consulted with Meulin—but even his black haired co-star is being vocal tonight, which is quite out of the norm. “You’re such a good boy. So good. I’m going to give you a treat. You want it?”

Eridan is almost crying, trying to talk around the cock so deep down his throat you’d be surprised if he was able to breath properly.

“You about there?” Daddy asks, looking down at Bro.

“Fuck yeah,” the blonde answers, pulling out of Eridan’s ass, his cock glistening with Horuss’s cum. Which is very useful, allowing him to shift on top of Eridan, rubbing their slick dicks together, holding them together with one large hand. “Put the fucking icing on that confection,” Bro says, and you kind of want to hit him.

His partner takes his cock from Eridan’s mouth, and your son is blabbering instantly. “Cum on me, Daddy,” Eridan cries, jerking his hips to match Bro’s pace.

The black-haired man groans and pumps his tight hand along his length, and another line of cum is joining the two loads already on your son’s face.

Bro is not far behind, his cum spreading all across Eridan’s thighs and cock, ruining his skirt and making his skin shine. The second he’s got his first, large shot off, Bro lets Eridan’s cock go, going to just rubbing his own, draining completely on the newcomer.

“I...I...come on!” Eridan whines, arching up,trying to get his dick back in contact with Bro’s hand. “I’m so close!”

“No,” you snap, and Eridan’s teeth click as his jaws snap shut. He looks at you, big, soulful eyes, and you just scowl. “Cronus,” you say, “do get moving. It’s rather late.”

“Sure, Dad,” Cronus says, just a second from laughing.

Eridan’s jaw is back down and he turns his head to look at his brother. Bro and Daddy are gone in an instant.

The stage is left to just your boys.

Cronus tilts his head, eyeing his brother, still idly stroking his own cock. “Hey, Eridork.”

Eridan scowls. “I’m not a dork.”

Cronus snickers. “Yeah, you are.” He pushes off from the wall, beginning a slow amble towards his brother. “Whining. Like a needy slut.”

“ I...I’m not  _whining!”_ Eridan whines.

“ Begging for it the second someone touches your dick?” Cronus croons, finally reaching his brother and standing with legs on either side of his hips. “Shouldn't even touch you. My  _brother?_ ”

You smile and nod. Yes. Play it up. There are so few places you can film this, and your studio milks the angle for all its worth.

“B...but….” Eridan’s lower lip wobbles. “Cronus...big brother...please...there’s no one left.”

You withhold a laugh and just watch as Cronus crouches down so he’s nearly on a level with Eridan. They stare at each other, one so apathetic, the other frantic, waiting for something to break.

It is, as you predicted, Eridan. He surges forward, wrapping his arms about Cronus’s neck, trying to pull him down. Eridan tries to simultaneously mash their lips together and speak, mostly succeeding on the latter. “Cronus. Cronus, please, brother, fuck me, I’m so close, please.”

“ Get on your knees,” Cronus growls, shoving Eridan’s shoulder, sending him to the floor. “Ass into the air. You gonna act like a bitch? I’ll  _make_ you one.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Eridan says, flipping onto his front, ass high, perfectly arched, his skirt sticking high on his hips, soaked to the skin with Bro’s cum. His cock bobs between his legs, and now it truly does look painful.

Cronus gives him an appreciative, hungry once-over.

Hungry in a very literal sense, it seems, as Cronus crouches behind his brother and leans in, trailing his tongue up Eridan’s clean-shaven balls to his abused hole.

“Fuck!” Eridan screams, and, for the first time, there’s no hint of acting. He pushes his ass back against his brother’s mouth, his tongue, and sobs. His chest hits the ground as his hands come up between his legs, towards his cock.

“Erdian. No,” you say, once more, and Eridan curses, planting his fists to the floor.

“Good,” you purr, reaching down and unzipping your jeans. The relief is incredible, but if you’d done this earlier, you’d have never lasted.

Cronus’s tongue moves in slow sweeps. Mostly over Eridan’s asshole, but he’s begun to grab at Eridan’s buttocks, spreading them wide so he can stick his tongue inside. It’s hard to tell, with all the semen on his face, but you imagine you can see tears rolling down Eridan’s cheeks, just as precum drips from his slit. He’s trying to speak, but words aren’t exactly a thing he’s capable of, at the moment. Poor thing.

“Cronus,” you say, getting the attention of your eldest, who raises a brow but doesn’t remove his face from his brother’s ass. “Stop teasing your brother.”

Cronus rolls his eyes and stops rimming the smaller man. Sitting back up, he makes no great ceremony of lining up his cock and sliding inside.

No ceremony is needed. Based on Eridan’s sobs, it’s a religious experience already.

Cronus does not go slow. Does not treat his brother nicely. He slams in, to the hilt, and uses his brother with enthusiasm, reaching up to grab his pigtails, forcing his head up, making his back arch.

Eridan rocks under Cronus’s thrusts, trying to look over his shoulder, tongue lolling out. It seems he barely has the breath to even moan. His pre-cum is soaking the floor, and, cock rings be damned, he’s probably not going to last much longer.

You go for casual as you walk forward, towards the pair, your treads almost silent.

“Eridan,” you whisper.

Your son’s head whips back around. He looks at you. Up at your face. Then down to the cock in your hand.

“D...dad?” He whispers. Not the theatrical “Daddy.” But what he calls you at home. Simply “Dad.”

You tilt your head to the side. Questioning. You’re not in the shot, yet. Don’t have to be in the shot.

Eridan hesitates for just a second more.

Then he smiles. “Dad,” he says, straining towards you, opening his mouth.

You walk the few steps needed before you sink to your knees and let your son slide his lips over your cock.

You have never had more respect for your employees. Eridan...has one of the most skilled mouths you’ve ever enjoyed. You give him a moment to reconsider what he’s doing, decide it’s wrong, back away, but when he doesn’t, you push Cronus's hands out of the way and grab Eridan’s pigtails, pulling his mouth onto your dick, jackhammering your hips up to meet that so-skilled tongue.

“ Good boy,” you croon. “Oh, you’re so  _good_ . I raised you so well.”

Eridan nods, reaching out to grab your belt loops, pulling you into his mouth, faster.

“You want to cum like this?” You ask. Serene. Even though your head is reeling. On the other side of your youngest, your eldest son seems to be keeping his head with no more success, pounding into Eridan’s hole so far he probably won't be able to walk for days.

Eridan is nodding, the movement combined with his fast sucks. Good double-tasking, this one.

“ Or,” you go on, “do you want us to finish all over you and then you can cum in one of  _our_ mouths?”

Eridan’s eyes shoot open and he stares at you.

“Second option?” You ask, a little laugh in the words.

Eridan nods.

“Cronus,” you say, sterm. Fatherly. “You ready?”

“So close, Dad,” Cronus groans. “So...unf...fuck….”

“I think your little brother has been very patient. Go ahead.”

“ _Yes_ !” Cronus moans, pulling out and jerking his cock, shooting his load on Eridan’s ass and tightening balls.

You watch for a moment before you feel the tickle in your own balls. You yank Eridan’s head back, grabbing your cock and pressing the tip to Eridan’s face, your cum not so much shooting out as flowing, painting white across your son’s cheeks and lips.

Eridan takes it. Patient, but trembling. When you pull back, his arms wobble, and you guide him to his back, where he lays, arms spread, cock throbbing in what looks like pain.

“Who?” You ask, so proud.

Eridan looks between you and Cronus, so confused. So torn.

Cronus is panting, but he smiles. “Pop here doesn’t do film that much,” Cronus volunteers.

Eridan looks up at you, eyes wide. He can’t answer, but you know what he’d say.

You tug one of his pigtails and lean over, down his chest, and slide your son’s cock into your mouth.

That would probably be enough, given a minute or two of work, but you reach down and undo the snap of one cock ring...then the other.

Your son’s semen floods your mouth and you gather it there, stroking his balls through a long and no-doubt shattering orgasm. If it was Bro’s partner here, no doubt he’d give his standard “I’m so, so proud of you, son.” But that is a bit hard with a dick in your mouth.

Once you’re sure Eridan is done, laying on the floor, exhausted, you let his cock go and spit the semen across his stomach.

“ Aw... _Dad_ ...come on.” Eridan grumbles.

“Picture time,” you say, standing and zipping your pants. “Don’t move.”

Eridan is a very good boy. He lays on the floor, hands on his cum-soaked thighs, and lets Equius take all the photos he needs.

* * *

A few weeks later, the DVDs are on the shelves. They disappear with record-breaking speed. There’s even a reprint.

When you give Eridan his first royalty check, you have never seen your boy more smug in his life.

  
  
  



End file.
